


Bat Family Projects

by CloakedSparrow



Series: Collected Bat-Family Stories [22]
Category: Bat Family (DCU), Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Bat Family, BatPets - Freeform, Batdad, Dex-Starr reference, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, No Romance, No Sex, Past Character Death, batkids
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 03:51:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloakedSparrow/pseuds/CloakedSparrow
Summary: Bruce and his children start a group text chain, work on another family project, pick up some new hobbies, confront a few issues and make some good memories.It seemed they weren’t going to run out of family projects for some time. Bruce was glad for that. He was even glad it meant receiving more off subject texts from his kids. When it came down to it, no matter how much extra work or time it might take, he would rather be part of his children’s lives than not.





	Bat Family Projects

**Author's Note:**

> While this does follow up on Dex-Starr Finds a New Home, the previous story in this series, it can be read alone.

Bruce’s phone vibrated on the desk beside the Batcomputer and he wasn’t sure if the primary emotion he was feeling was irritation or pleasure. Dick had started a group text chain among the family to make arrangements for ‘family projects’. They’d recently completed Damian’s far-too-elaborate catio and were now moving onto an agility course for the boy’s dog, Titus. 

At first, the texts had been reasonable. Questions and answers that would be useful for everyone or almost everyone to know were shared. Mostly, Dick and Tim asked questions. Tim gave information on agility courses and their construction and Jason chimed in with ways to strengthen up existing designs or concepts. Damian gave opinions on what he wanted for Titus (which were more like demands but his brothers seemed to ignore that) and one of the others explained why something might have to be adjusted or they all figured out how to make it work among them. Then, Bruce or Dick made any necessary purchases and arrangements for everything they needed to be delivered to the manor. 

At some point, the boys started using it for questions and comments that Bruce didn’t think they needed to include everyone in, except that all his boys seemed to respond nearly every time.

He couldn’t figure it out. He also discovered he couldn’t turn them off unless he asked Dick to remove him from the chain. He knew he could, his sons wouldn’t be surprised and certainly wouldn’t hold it against him. The thing was, he wasn’t sure if he truly wanted to be removed from it. 

It was certainly irritating to receive a text during one of the quarterly meetings he had to attend at WE, only to find that Jason had sent a string of swear words along with a photo of a clip of ammunition that had accidentally gone through the wash. Especially when it was followed by another text a second later as Dick teased his little brother for the mistake. Then that text was followed by a middle finger emoji from Jason. 

Tim had clearly received the same texts (Bruce saw him nonchalantly check his phone), but they didn’t distract him from grilling one of the board members whose suggestions for cost cutting were completely disrespectful to the lower level employees. Once the meeting was over, however, there was a text from Tim asking how much of the bullets were not salvageable, since Jason cast his own. That was followed by a chain of surprisingly patient and informative texts as Jason replied and he and Tim began a full blown discussion on ammunition grains, weights and powders. 

This continued until Damian sent a text with a couple of gabbing emoji and a plus sign followed by an angry emoji and a knife. Tim texted a quick apology and asked Jason if they could continue the conversation in private. There was no response and Bruce found himself hoping they did. While it was nice to see how his boys interacted unsupervised (and Bruce actually learned a few things about ammunition he hadn’t known before) he didn’t see why Jason and Tim hadn’t just moved to private texting to begin with.

Bruce sent a private text to Damian telling him not to threaten his brothers with bodily harm, even in emoji form. One thing he had to give the text chains credit for, they gave him plenty of opportunity to respond to his youngest child’s unsuitable behavior. 

It was also nice to see the photo Tim texted Jason the next day, of his cat curled up in a cat-tree that his big brother had helped put together. Bruce knew this was the case because the text that accompanied the photo read ‘Dex likes his new nest. Thanks, Jay.’ Jason replied that Dex had better be appreciating his hard work, but softened it with a Grumpy Cat emoji. Of course, Damian followed this up with a photo of _his_ cat in his carpeted, over-sized viking ship bed. Dick posted several emoji that Bruce took to mean he found both cats adorable. Or his little brothers. Either way, the boys were clearly getting along.

Bruce liked those chains, even if they were off topic.

This time, the text was at least somewhat related to their current project. Dick was on his way to the manor and was stopping at Batburgers. He wanted to know what everyone wanted, which meant Bruce received texts with each of his sons’ lunch orders. He loved his children, truly, but he didn’t need to know that Jason wanted a KGBLT meal (whatever that was) or that Damian wanted a veggie burger with Bat-Fries and that he hoped Tim’s Ivy Salad was truly poisoned. Although, once again, it gave him the opportunity to let Damian know that last comment wasn’t appropriate or acceptable. 

While Bruce was still typing, Jason replied that it wouldn’t matter if the salad was poisoned because there had been _‘far better attempts made on Tim’s life that failed miserably’_. This was followed by a series of texts from Damian in quick succession. Each consisted of a string of emoji that appeared to represent each of the attempts against Tim’s life (there were far too many). There was a nearly simultaneous comment from Dick wondering if Tim was actually a secret meta human or just incredibly resilient. Finally, there was a reply from Tim in the form of a photo of a grumpy-looking Dex with the caption ‘not amused’. 

Ironically or intentionally, this seemed to amuse each of his brothers to no end. 

Bruce wasn’t sure if Tim meant it to be funny or if he genuinely wasn’t enjoying the reminders of his brothers’ (and various relatives of one brother) assorted attempts against his life. Bruce himself certainly wasn’t amused. It led to another discovered advantage of the group text. He could chastise all his sons at once with a single text: ' _I fail to see what’s so amusing about having almost lost one of you. Again and AGAIN._ '

After about twenty seconds of silence, Dick (and for some reason, Tim) replied with apologies to everyone. Jason apologized to Tim only, despite using the group text. Damian replied with ' _Very well, Father._ '

Satisfied that his boys were properly cowed, Bruce asked Tim how the salad was and then put in an order for one along with a Batburger Deluxe. 

Twenty minutes later, all his sons were at the manor and Dick was passing out food. 

“This isn’t what I ordered.” Damian narrowed his eyes at Dick as if an improper order was an offense worthy of receiving the cane. 

Dick was apparently immune to his brother’s glare and answered happily, as if the boy had been merely curious. “The Robin Meal comes with a toy and dessert. Why wouldn’t I get you one?”

“Because the Robin Meal doesn’t come with a veggie burger. I’m vegetarian now.” Damian scowled, clearly unhappy that his favorite brother had forgotten that fact. 

Dick continued to smile at his little brother. “I got them to replace the beef patty with a veggie one. I also pointed out that they cost the same as solo entrées and that it was a healthier alternative for a growing boy. They’re considering adding it to the kids options officially.”

The scowl fell off Damian’s face immediately and was replaced by an expression Bruce didn’t immediately recognize on his youngest son’s face. It looked to be something between gratitude and awe. 

Then Damian looked down into his Robin Meal box as if he was inspecting the contents. He wasn’t quite quick enough for Bruce to miss the small smile he was clearly trying to hide. “That’s...more than satisfactory then. Bat-Cow will be pleased.”

Dick just smiled warmly at his youngest sibling. “Good. I’m glad I could make her happy.” He mussed Damian’s hair. “And you can have some of my fries if it doesn’t come with enough. I got extra.”

Bruce hoped Dick knew that the ‘Thank you’ he gave him then wasn’t just for the food he was handing him. 

“What is this?” Damian’s tone had returned to his usual level of irritation, breaking the moment before Bruce could say anything more to Dick. Looking at his youngest, Bruce saw him holding a Red Hood action figure at eye level and practically sneering at it.

“That would probably be the toy that Dick mentioned came with the meal.” Bruce simply raised his brows when his youngest shot him a small glare. Damian toned it down slightly. It was a start.

The boy turned back to his toy. “Damn it. Why wouldn’t they include a good one?”

Bruce was about to chide Damian on his language when his other three sons all responded at once. 

“At least I _have_ an action figure. I don’t see any angry hooded brats on there.” Jason pointed out the Robin depicted on the box, which was clearly designed after Tim’s Robin suit. It seemed that Damian hadn’t made enough of an impact on the people of Gotham for Batburgers to update their merchandise. 

Bruce was a little glad for that. Reeling in Damian’s ego could be challenging enough at times without adding fast food fame to the mix. 

“That’s actually a surprisingly good quality figure for one that came with a Robin Meal. They were really cheap looking when I was little,” Tim responded as if that hadn’t only been a few years before. He looked the toy over from across the table. “Decent paint job too. With a few touch ups, it could be a really nice one.” 

Bruce wasn’t sure if Tim misunderstood what Damian meant by ‘a good one’ or if he was just genuinely impressed by the improved quality of the kids meal toys over the past few years.

“The point is for you to collect the whole Bat Family, see?” Dick turned the box to the side that showed each of the available figures with the words ‘COLLECT THEM ALL!’ written in the Bat Signal and a small ‘SERIES THREE’ written in the bottom corner. “So you might not get your favorite hero right away, but you might get them the next time. 

“Of course, they don’t have an Oracle figure, since the public doesn’t know much about her. I heard some people started making custom ones you can buy on Etsy, if you want one. Its basically just a tiny computer with a purple Bat Logo and the words ‘Oracle here’ on the screen. They have some that light up though.”

Jason smirked at Dick, clearly amused that he had researched action figures of Barbara. Tim looked slightly intrigued. Damian was still studying the box. 

“Its a marketing strategy.” Bruce quickly began to explain when Damian frowned at the selection of toys. None of which depicted his likeness. “This way, kids keep requesting Batburgers to their parents and they make more sales. Eventually, they retire a series for a while and release new toys. Then they introduce one of the old figures as their holiday special and charge extra for them to people who want to complete their collection.”

“I want a Nightwing and a Spoiler.” Damian announced suddenly before sitting down and removing the rest of his meal from the box. “And a Batman, of course.” 

“I guess that’s that marketing at work, huh?” Jason smirked as he sat down with his food. 

“Can I just buy you the figures?” Bruce really didn’t like the idea of eating at Batburgers on any sort of regular basis as his youngest tried to collect those specific figures.

“Nope. These particular ones only come with the meal.” Dick did not sound even remotely sympathetic. “Besides, its fun for kids to collect them this way.”

“You can always wait until the Kents are in town and take him with Jon. Then they can start trading too.” Tim held up a few dressing packets for Bruce to see. “Which do you want?”

Bruce definitely wasn’t eating anything cream based that had sat on a shelf in Batburgers for who knew how long. He recalled that Tim’s favorite was French, so he took the Italian.  


“Or, I can start taking Little D every couple of weeks,” Dick offered, smiling softly at the idea. “It can be a homework reward or something if you want. I miss hanging out with him more.”

Damian suddenly found something on his Robin Meal box very interesting and worthy of inspection. Bruce couldn’t help but smile. Fast food with his big brother every couple of weeks wouldn’t hurt Damian. It would probably do him a lot of good. Bruce knew he missed seeing Dick more as well. “That sounds like a good idea then. Thanks, Dick.”

Jason arched a brow at his big brother. “We just finished the Cheese Vikings catio project from hell and are about to start another family project for his dog. How much time do you need to spend with him?” 

Dick rolled his eyes. “I happen to _like_ being a big brother, thank you very much. You should try it more often. You get to do all sorts of things people otherwise tell you you’re too old for and you get to be best friends with your little brother.” He aimed a beaming smile at Damian for a moment before turning back to Jason. “What’s not to like?”

Bruce hadn’t had to work so hard to hold in a laugh since Dick was a kid. Damian was definitely blushing behind his Robin Meal box. Jason stared at Dick blankly for a moment and then grinned before turning to Tim. The younger boy stopped eating and stared blankly as his big brother addressed him with an overabundance of false enthusiasm. 

“Hey Tiny Tim, do you wanna order Bat-Pizzas and have a video game marathon every Tuesday night for the rest of our probably short lives!?!”

Tim watched Jason for a brief moment and then answered in a deadpan tone. “My place work for you? I don’t want to leave Dex alone another night each week and your neighborhood is scary.”

Jason stared, open-mouthed, at his younger brother for half a second before cracking up. 

Bruce couldn’t hold his amusement any longer and so joined his son’s laughter. After a short time passed, he heard a familiar clicking sound and forced himself to focus.

Alfred was grinning and tucking away his phone. Dick was smiling like a kid on a snow day. Tim was starring at Bruce and Jason with a look of pleasant surprise, while Damian was looking at them with a mixture of shock of bafflement. Even Titus was sitting next to his owner with his ears pert and his headed tilted in confusion. 

Bruce rolled his eyes at their reactions. “It isn’t as though I _never_ laugh.”

“Not like that. Not in a long time.” Dick was still smiling, Jason and Tim were as well. 

“I must say, its good to hear it again,” Alfred added. 

Damian crossed his arms and scoffed at his family. There was a brightness to his eyes that hinted at his own amusement, but he managed to keep a straight face. “If you are all done with this sentimental nonsense, can we start working on Titus’ agility course as we’re _supposed_ to be?”

“Did you finish your meal?” Bruce asked. Damian frowned at his unfinished lunch. Bruce quirked an eyebrow. “Then we can’t get started yet anyway.”

That led to a chuckle from Jason and a stifled laugh from Dick. The boys continued eating, this time they spoke of the project at hand as they finished. 

Five hours later, Alfred brought lemonade out to the section of the yard that had been dedicated to their new canine agility course. Damian was trying to get Titus to jump over a cavaletti which thus far meant the boy himself jumped over it half a dozen times while the dog watched and wagged his tail. Bruce secretly took a couple of photos with his phone.

Meanwhile, Dick was hanging from his knees off the top of one of the suspended hoops the dog was meant to jump through after he finished with the cavaletti. Jason was balancing on the seesaw, whether to test it out or just for fun, Bruce wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to ask and disrupt his second eldest if the young man was simply enjoying himself. Tim was still inside the small dog tunnel he’d set up last. He’d crawled in to secure it from the inside but Bruce was beginning to suspect the boy was taking a nap in there. 

Alfred smiled. “I don’t know about the dog, but at least master Damian will get plenty of exercise in the fresh air this way.”

Bruce nodded. “At least one of my kids has a healthy hobby.” 

“We have hobbies.” Dick flipped off the hoop he’d been dangling from and landed perfectly without using his hands. He thanked Alfred as he took a glass of lemonade.

“I believe your father’s operative word was ‘healthy’, Master Dick.” Alfred arched a brow. “Are any of these hobbies unrelated to crime solving and fighting cretins on the streets?”

Dick thought about that for a moment. “I've still got my gymnastics. Me, Jason and Timmy read. Timmy has his new cat, Jay plays video games, and Cass is studying ballet. Does that count?”

Bruce hadn’t known about that last one. He made a mental note to have dinner with Cassandra soon and ask about her new hobby. Meanwhile, Alfred didn’t seem caught by surprise at all.

“The last three, yes. The first is partially tied up with your nightly activities. The rest would depend on what you are reading.”

Dick just smiled at the older man. “You know I like the classics.” He turned to look at his little brothers. Tim had joined Jason on the seesaw and they appeared to be trying to keep it level while standing on it, which was a little tricky since Jason significantly outweighed Tim. “Jason prefers books on physics, Shakespeare, and those adventure romance novels he secretly loves. Timmy still likes science and history...and he still loves mysteries of course, real or fictional. And, lately, books on cat care.”

His eldest sons words kicked up several stray memories for Bruce. Of Dick, re-reading Robin Hood or Treasure Island for what had to be the twentieth time and still becoming completely immersed in the story. Of Jason, picking up a throwaway comment Harley Quinn made that led to them discussing a book Bruce had never heard of while they waited for GCPD to arrive. Of Tim, excitedly opening a newsletter from some Sherlock Holmes book club he’d joined. They were all good memories.

He looked over where his other kids were. Damian had joined Jason and Tim on the seesaw. The youngest two were both on one side and were jumping in tandem, apparently trying to toss their big brother in the air. It wasn’t working, a fact Jason seemed to find very amusing. Damian then called Titus on it too, which was enough to drop their side down to the ground but still not enough to cause Jason to become airborne or to fall. 

“Hey, that’s not fair, playing two against one!” Dick ran over and jumped onto Jason’s side of the seesaw. Titus excitedly jumped over to join the energetic young man and their weight along with Jason’s was enough to toss both of their youngest brothers into the air. Being Robins, they both landed lightly on their feet, back on the seesaw. They then called Titus back over to balance out the weight better. 

Bruce smiled at his sons. Today had been filled with plenty of good memories too. 

Bruce found himself thinking of that day over the next couple of weeks. The boys continued to use the text chain even though the project was over. He found he didn’t mind. Tim set a different alert chime for those text so Bruce could choose to ignore it when he was busy. When he wasn’t, it was nice to hear what his kids were up to. 

Especially when Tim included Cassandra in it and she started sharing photos of the ballet poses she’d learned and occasionally, single words followed by question marks. At first, Bruce was confused by this until Dick responded with the meaning of the first word. The next time, Tim did and added a pronunciation guide. It seemed Cassandra had decided the chain was a good way to ask for help with words she was stuck on. That way, whichever brother was the least busy could reply. Bruce started answering as well. 

One day, Damian posted a photo of Jerry, his pet turkey (Bruce still couldn’t believe they had so many animals at the manor these days), whose head had turned a pale blue. The photo was accompanied by a demand for someone to tell the boy what was happening to Jerry. Tim replied that Jerry was just excited and that it was nothing to worry about. Apparently, turkey’s heads changed colors with their moods.

After that, Damian continued to ask questions about turkeys, which Tim answered. Bruce stopped paying attention to those texts after a while. Although he did take a moment to wonder if Tim already knew so much about turkeys or if he was simply looking up the answers as quickly as he was asked. None of his other kids remarked on the turkey conversation as far as he noticed. 

When Bruce came down for breakfast one morning to see Dick and Jason going over a schematic on one end of the table while Damian scowled and set six place sittings on the other side, he smiled. He had been seeing his sons more and more over the past couple of months and he was glad for it. 

He briefly paused, however, when he registered what his eldest children were saying. 

“It looks great, but isn’t this a bit much?” Dick asked as he looked over the sketch. “How much space do you guys think he needs?”

Jason simply shrugged. “We’re making sure there’s room for expansion. Timbers says galliformes need to be kept in groups of three at the least for ‘optimal flocking mentality’. Before you ask, I don’t know exactly what that means. I didn’t ask. I don’t really care that much and Tim’s word is good enough for me.”

Dick just smiled. “Its good enough for me too.” He glanced at Damian, who had stopped scowling and taken interest in their conversation. “What do you think, Little D?”

Instead of answering his brother, Damian turned to Bruce. “Father, Jerry requires a minimum of two companion turkeys.”

Bruce sighed and looked at his two eldest. “I should have kept up with all the turkey talk on that chain, shouldn’t I?” 

Dick shrugged with a sympathetic smile while Jason shook his head and answered. “Naw, just do what we do; let Tim handle the research and fill you in as needed. Then jump on board when he tells you he’s ready or that someone needs to intervene before Damian tries to murder him again.”

“Tcht.” Damian crossed his arms and glared at his big brothers. “I wasn’t going to try to _murder_ him, I was only going to try to _maim_ him-”

Bruce interrupted sternly. “First, no maiming your brother.”

Damian rolled his eyes but his eldest sons interrupted before Bruce could continue. 

“Second, you need to learn to take a joke,” Dick added, ruffling Damian’s hair to soften the chiding.

Jason rolled up the schematic he and Dick had been looking over as he added to the lesson. “Third, its not Tim’s fault you aren’t familiar with ancient Aztec history. If you were a history geek too, I’m sure the joke would have been hilarious. Next time, just ask. Trust me, he’ll be happy to explain. Personally, I can’t believe male turkeys are called _Toms_ and you named yours _Jerry_ and no one has teased you about that yet.”

While he was stuffing the rolled schematic into a travel tube, he caught Damian’s napkin and revealed the Red Hood action figure that had been hidden underneath. 

Damian snatched up his toy with a scowl. “Watch what you’re doing, imbecile! You could have broken it.”

Jason smirked. “Aw, I'm flattered. I didn’t know you liked playing with figures, brat.”

Damian’s scowl deepened. “I wasn’t _playing_ with it. Drake stopped an armed robbery at Batburgers and afterwards they gave him a complimentary Robin Meal-”

“They gave him a kid’s meal?” Dick interrupted, looking baffled. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the kid’s meal,” he quickly amended, glancing at Damian before turning back to Jason. “But isn’t that a little weird?”

“He _is_ a kid,” Jason replied, making it clear this was something Dick really should have known. “A scrawny one too. No wonder they tried to feed him.”

Dick frowned. “He’s small for his age but he’s not _that_ small. When he has the suit on-”

“He still doesn’t look very impressive.” Damian held up a hand when it was clear that his father and both brothers were about to scold him. “I only mean that he doesn’t cut a very physically imposing figure, not like Father or either of you. Anyone with even rudimentary observational skills should realize he’s still in adolescence.

“Back to my point,” Damian indicated the Red Hood figure as if to get everyone back on track. Because _clearly_ , this was more important than Tim’s lack of physical growth. “His meal contained the Huntress figure, which is now in limited supply because Batburgers discovered children didn’t like her much because she doesn’t wear a Bat Symbol and parents didn't like her much because she doesn't always wear enough clothes. Therefore, they stopped producing her. Drake has offered a trade. I don’t know know why he would want _this_ figure but I intend to trade today before he comes to his senses.”

Just then, Alfred walked into the room with Tim. “It is nice to have most of the family together for breakfast. Such a shame Cassandra couldn’t make it.”

“She’ll be here for dinner tomorrow, as long as nothing too crazy happens,” Tim assured the kind man before turning to the others. Before he could utter a word in greeting, Damian demanded to know if he’d brought the figure. 

Tim rolled his eyes and dug a small display tube out of his messenger bag. He took the purple clad figure out and handed it over without a word. 

Damian snatched up the figure anyway and absently skidded the Red Hood figure across the table toward Tim. He spoke as he inspected his new possession. “This is a final trade. No rescinding on our deal.”

“No take backs, got it.” Tim checked over his figure with a small smile. 

“Not that I’m into this sort of thing, but isn’t that trade a little unbalanced?” Jason asked, then continued talking over Damian’s demand to ‘shut it, Todd’. “If that Huntress figure is rare, and the Red Hood is common, isn’t she more valuable?”

“Because of its limited quantities, Huntress has a resale value this one lacks, yes.” Tim tucked his new figure into its little protective case and put it away in his bag. “But that means its been kept in pristine condition for resale by online sellers. Its hard to find a Red Hood for sale that hasn’t been played with and messed up. I don’t eat at Batburgers often, and never a kids meal, so I can’t count on getting one that way.”

Bruce was glad to hear that Tim was taking better care of his health these days. Between the unusual amount of wear and tear his children’s bodies take on, Tim’s hectic schedule and his missing spleen, he needed to eat better than fast food burgers and fries. The new collection was a little unexpected, but after their talk on hobbies the other day, Bruce was glad Tim had other interests than crime fighting. He'd appeared to be entirely consumed by it for some time there. 

Damian seemed to find another aspect of Tim’s statement more important than his diet or overall health. “You mean I could have simply purchased a Huntress figure?” He turned to shoot a glare at Dick. It did nothing to dim the smile he directed at the boy. “Why didn’t you tell me, Richard?”

Jason latched onto another part of Tim’s comment. He ignored the others in order to ask his own follow-up question. “Why did you want a pristine Red Hood anyway?”

Tim was doing something on his phone as he answered. “This one’s actually more accurate than the Hasbro or Pop Vinyl figures. And I don’t like that Square Enix includes you in their Rogues line. Plus, theirs won’t fit in my case.”

He handed the phone over. Bruce looked over Jason’s shoulder and saw a photo of an acrylic case designed to display a few dozen action figures on a wall. This one was clearly not in Tim’s apartment, but Bruce assumed he must have one that resembled it. 

Damian grabbed the phone and then looked at his Huntress figure. Bruce decided to cut him off before he could make any demands. “Tim, can you order one of those cases for Damian for me?” 

The teenager nodded with a small smile. Then he asked Damian if he liked the mirrored backing or the clear one while the younger boy swiped through the photos on Tim' phone. 

“Still doesn’t explain why you want _any_ Red Hood figure to begin with.” Jason looked at his little brother questioningly as he got his phone back for him. 

“Most people have photos of their family in their homes, displaying their interests and personalities. I have photos of Dick in his police uniform, of Cassandra practicing ballet, and of Damian and Alfred training Titus, but its not as though I could put up photos of Red Hood or Batman in my apartment without raising questions. No one will think twice about an action figure collection though.” Tim shrugged and hung his messenger bag on the back of his chair. 

No one spoke for several moments, save for thanking Alfred as he served breakfast. Then, after a while, Dick frowned at Jason. “Why _doesn’t_ anyone have any recent photos of you?”

Jason shot his big brother a look that would have made most men flinch. Dick just waited for him to answer. “I’m supposed to be dead, remember? You want to try explaining that when someone recognizes a photo on your wall? ‘Yeah, that _is_ my adopted brother who died. He got better though’.”

Bruce wasn’t sure how to respond. Wasn’t sure there even was an appropriate way to respond to that. Jason’s death was always a touchy subject for the family. Normally, they didn’t talk about it outside of a few jokes that Jason made at times. Bruce glanced at his sons to see how each of them was responding to the reminder. 

Dick looked stricken and wasn’t eating but was instead watching Jason. While he’d helped Jason from time to time, he hadn’t been as hands on with him as he was with Tim, Cassandra and, especially, Damian. Bruce knew it wasn’t Dick’s fault. He’d been a teenager himself and had been building his own life away from home for the first time. Even if he had been around more back then, it probably wouldn’t have made much difference. Bruce thought Jason knew that, he hoped Dick did. 

Damian was eating normally, but his eyes kept darting between Dick and Jason. He had also shifted closer to Dick, as if ready to defend his favorite brother should the need arise. Damian never seemed to react to the subject of what had happened to Jason. Bruce didn’t know if that was because it had all happened before he entered the picture, because he was prone to leaving the past behind, or if he simply didn’t think it was a big deal because Jason hadn’t remained dead. Either way, the boy probably had no idea how to react to the subject now, other than to make sure Dick had backup if Jason lashed out.

Tim was watching Jason through the corner of his eye and moving his food around his plate without actually eating. He looked sad and a little guilty, as he always did when the subject came up. Bruce never understood that. There was no reason for the boy to feel guilty. Tim had been a child when Jason was killed and hadn’t even been a member of the family yet. He hadn’t asked to take Jason’s place as Robin either; he’d only wanted Bruce to heal and the rest happened naturally. Once Jason’s mind had time to heal after the initial attack, Tim seemed perfectly willing to forgive him and accept him as his brother. 

Alfred caught Bruce’s eye from across the table. He held Bruce’s gaze for a moment and then led it his boys again. The look the older man gave him afterwards clearly said ‘You’re their father. You need to take care of this.’ 

Jason was eating mechanically and keeping his eyes on his plate. While Jason made jokes about his death from time to time, and had said some pretty damning things to Bruce and Tim immediately after his return, he always avoided speaking about it in conversation. Even then, the comments had always been about dying, never about his current state of existence. Bruce hadn’t known that having people believe he was dead weighed on him. He wasn’t sure what could be done about that, but if anyone could figure out a way to bring someone back from the dead without drawing suspicions, it was his family.

Bruce cleared his throat. Dick, Damian, and Alfred turned to him. Tim stopped moving his food around, but didn’t look at Bruce. Jason stopped eating but didn’t look up from his plate. Each of them waited silently.

“Tim.” Bruce’s gaze moved from his second eldest, whom he’d watched for a quiet moment, to his second youngest, who looked up at his name. “I know you’re busy with work and turkey research and probably a couple dozen cases, but do you think you could make time to do some research for me?”

Tim glanced at Jason, then returned his attention to Bruce and nodded. He looked a little confused but accepting. Bruce wasn’t sure whether that was good or bad, but he knew his next comment would have the boy on board. “I want you to look into long term missing persons cases and cases where someone was declared dead and later found alive. Preferably ones where there was a decent stretch of time between the presumed death and return. Find common ways people are incorrectly declared dead and common reasons why someone can be missing for years without anyone finding them.”

Bruce looked at the others in turn. “Its time the family was officially back together again.” He looked at Jason, who was finally looking at him. “Its time we let the world know your brother’s come home.

“Are you alright with that?” Bruce needed to make sure he was right in thinking this was something Jason would want before be put the family through it. If Jason said yes, he knew the others would be willing to face whatever they had to, to make it work. 

For Jason, it would mean having a secret identity again. Having to be more careful in his movements as Red Hood. It would mean having to account for his time and pay taxes. It would mean being able to walk down the street and say ‘hi’ to an old classmate or going to a museum and not having to worry about staying hidden from the public eye. It would mean being able to hear his siblings introduce him as their brother and Bruce call him his son publicly.

It would mean more freedom in some places, but more confinement and complications in others. Bruce wasn’t sure what Jason prioritized more. He was working on fixing that, and being able to claim Jason as his son once again would help, but he couldn’t make this decision for his boy. 

It took a moment for Jason to speak. He was blinking and swallowing more often than normal. Clearly, he was emotional but trying to keep it under control. 

Finally, he nodded. “Yeah. If its not too much trouble.” His cadence was casual but his voice was rougher than usual. He glanced at his brothers. “For anyone.”

Dick immediately smiled at his little brother. “Are you kidding? Just being able to drag you to all those high society events with me will be worth any trouble. With all the Wayne kids gathered together, the upper crust won’t know what hit it!”

Tim smiled as well. “It’ll be nice to be able to introduce you as my brother. Its always at the tip of my tongue and I keep having to make excuses. Half the people at work think I have a secret boyfriend because of you.” That pulled a small laugh from Jason.

Damian scoffed. “It won’t make much difference to me. I always tell those obnoxious reporters to mind their own business anyway. Besides, I’m still the only true heir, remember.”

Jason rolled his eyes at that. “You realize B has more than enough baggage for us all to inherit, right? Trust me, by the time he’s ready to retire, you’ll wish he’d adopted more than just the four of us.”

“Oh, I think the five of you are plenty.” Bruce continued eating, and smiled when he saw his boys doing the same. “I think you’ll handle things just fine when I’m ready to retire.”

The silence that followed that statement caused Bruce to quickly look up at his boys again. They were each staring at him in shock. “Not that that’s going to be any time soon, but its true.” He smirked. “Shouldn’t be a surprise though. After all, you were taught by the best.”

That earned him a couple eye rolls and some ribbing all around. Once his sons settled, Bruce turned to the other family project that was apparently in the works. “So what’s the plan for Jerry?”

Right away, Jason reached for the schematic he’d put away before breakfast, Damian reminded him about Jerry needing companions, Tim started rattling off information about domestic turkeys, and Dick answered simply that they were going to need to build the bird a coop. A large one.

He smiled at the schematic that Tim and Jason had clearly drawn up together. It was a first draft, with room for change as their siblings and father made suggestions and additions to build upon what they’d started. 

“I think we can afford to make it a little bigger than necessary.” Bruce answered when Dick asked if he thought it was a bit much. “Just in case. We’ll start with two more birds and see where it goes from there.”

Bruce could hardly fault Damian if he wanted to adopt more. In fact, he was beginning to wonder if it was an inherited trait. 

It seemed they weren’t going to run out of family projects for some time. Bruce was glad for that. He was even glad it meant receiving more off subject texts from his kids. When it came down to it, no matter how much extra work or time it might take, he would rather be part of his children’s lives than not. 

Bruce was proud of what he’d accomplished as Batman. He was proud of the progress Wayne Enterprises had made. He was proud of the Justice League and his Bat Family. But he knew the best decisions he had ever made was taking in the four boys at the table, and their sister. Anything that came from those decisions -whether it included cows or supercomputers, ballet shoes or Kevlar, sentient cats or declaring someone _un_ dead- would only make him stronger. Would only make him better, as Batman and as Bruce Wayne. 

After all, his children had only been taught by the best because they had first _made_ him the best.


End file.
